


Lifetime of Kisses

by Gelsey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1421656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelsey/pseuds/Gelsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lifetime full of kisses, and this is how it ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifetime of Kisses

She kissed me so sweetly, that first time. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips were soft. It was a soft and shy “hello” spoken with skin and breath. Fleur, her lips as soft as a flower.

She kissed me so hungrily, the first time we made love. As if she wanted to burrow inside me and feel everything I felt, have everything I have. Our hearts beat in time and I was helpless and rejoicing in my helplessness under the onslaught. It said “I need you and want you and desire you more than anyone else.” I reveled in it, in my wanton part-Veela.

After Fenrir’s attack, her kisses reassured. They told me, again and again, “I still love you” and “You’re still beautiful to me.” With each kiss, she gave me back my confidence. She reminded me that beauty wasn’t always the most important thing. She saved me.

The kiss at our wedding sealed our vows. It said “I promise” and “I swear” and “I’ll love you forever and beyond.” It was a moment that stood out in time, a beacon of light and love. Not even the atmosphere of anxiety that surrounded that time could ruin that spectacular moment.

The first kiss we shared after Victoire was born was weary but content. The corners of her mouth were still a little tight from pain, strain subtly etched at the corners of her eyes, but she looked so perfect and happy as we looked down at our baby. “We’re a family now,” her kiss said to me, and then to our child.

There were the busy kisses that took the places of familiar everyday exchanges. “Good morning” and “Good bye,” “Welcome home” and “Thank you.” They grew commonplace, until sometimes we exchanged only the words necessary to arrange our lives each day. I didn’t realize then, but sometimes kisses shouldn’t replace all the words.

Angry kisses stalked across our path as that happened. Kisses after fights that summarized them neatly—“Why didn’t you tell me your mother was coming over” and “Who was the girl you were eating lunch with” and “Damn it, Bill, why can’t you listen to me when I’m talking to you?” kisses. Kisses that shouted the words we kept pinned behind our lips, those “Sometimes I hate you more than I love you”s and, even worse, the occasional “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

The tight, close-lipped “We’re staying together for the children” kisses circled like vultures. I don’t know if she shared other kisses with other people at that point—she had to have been tempted because I was more than once. To feel something, _anything_ , again when someone’s lips touched mine. It was all I wanted and all I dreamed of. I occasionally even watched her lips and dreamed of making them ignite with mine again. Sometimes I think my kisses said that, betrayed my secret wishes. Her lips only grew colder after that.

It’s this kiss now, though, that I know will haunt me more than any. This kiss full of tears and regret and bitterness. The kiss of “it’s over, for good, forever.” We linger, perhaps a final hope. But the hope fizzles and dies, and the kiss dies too. I press mine against hers one more time, “Good bye,” and turn away. 

A lifetime full of kisses, and this is how it ends—with my lips dry and salty, speaking only of finality to my tongue when I lick them.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2010. Honestly, I liked this once, but not so much anymore.


End file.
